


Messy Knickers

by Persiflage



Series: Bondkink Fics [3]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies)
Genre: Assertive Bond, Clothed Sex, Creampie, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Prompt Fic, Submissive M, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-29
Updated: 2012-12-29
Packaged: 2017-11-22 21:49:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/614721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bond is assertive for once - and M enjoys it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Messy Knickers

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the bondkink comm on LJ. The prompt was _Craig!Bond/Dench!M, creampie, messy knickers. So there's a plush executive bathroom in M's office suite at MI6 where they fuck sometimes. Bond normally leaves and M cleans herself up but this time he stays, helps her with her knickers back on and makes it quite clear that he wants her to attend a meeting with the Foreign Secretary with his cum inside her, seeping out onto her (expensive) knickers. I want Bond in subtle control and M to be turned on by this secretly submissive act more than she ever thought she would be. And maybe later he could meet her at her place, to play/clean her up._  
>  Spoilers: None  
> Disclaimer: Not mine!

"Oh Christ!" Bond's gasp warns M that he's nearing his orgasm and she tightens her pussy muscles around his thick prick by way of encouragement. 

"Come on, James, come for me." She's already come twice, once when he went down on her in her office, and then a second time after they'd relocated into this very plush bathroom adjoining M's office and he'd begun fucking her. She needs him to come soon, not just because she's aching and throbbing from the pounding he's been giving her, but also because she's got a meeting to go to in the next half hour therefore they need to finish up so she can get cleaned up.

"Fuck!" He hisses the word from between gritted teeth and his cock stops thrusting to begin pulsing instead as he fills her with copious amounts of his cum. 

She kisses him hard as she has another orgasm, then she feels his cock sliding out of her, and some of his cum slicks onto her thighs as well. He kneels beside her and laps up his spunk from her thighs, then helps her up from the floor.

"What time is it?" she asks.

Bond checks his watch. "Two thirty."

She frowns. "I'm going to be cutting it fine for my meeting with the Foreign Secretary," she says, turning towards the shower unit in the corner.

"So save that for later," he says.

She looks back at him over her shoulder. "I can't."

He steps closer and kisses her hard on the mouth. "Mmm, but I think you should. I think you should walk out of here with your cunt full of my spunk. The thought of it will keep you from getting too bored when Benson's waffling on."

M suppresses a shiver of arousal at his words. It's tempting, far more tempting than she's actually prepared to admit at this moment. He's already gathered up her knickers from the heap of their clothing by the door.

"Put them on, M," he says, his tone stern. He kneels at her feet, holding them ready for her to step into, and after a moment, she obeys, swallowing hard. He guides her knickers (French silk, a very expensive Valentine's Day gift from her favourite agent) up her legs and smirks as he gets to his feet.

"Good girl."

"I can't believe I'm doing this," she says, which is wholly true. What she also cannot believe is how thoroughly turned on she is by the idea of his cum soaking into her knickers while she's in the meeting.

Bond kisses her again and she feels his cock brush against her skin: he, apparently, is also turned on by the idea because he's already half-hard again.

He swiftly helps her to finish dressing, then rapidly dresses himself. "If it's any consolation," he says. "I'm am going to have a raging hard-on for the rest of the afternoon."

She brushes a hand down the front of his trousers, then squeezes his balls. "It is something of a consolation," she agrees.

"What time's your meeting finish?"

"Five thirty."

"Why don't I meet you at your place at six then?" She lifts an eyebrow and he elaborates. "Well, I shall need to do _something_ with my boner, and I'd sooner fuck you than anyone else."

"Six o'clock then," she says. They exchange one final kiss, then let themselves out of the bathroom, M to go to her meeting, and Bond to find something to occupy himself until six o'clock.

007-007-007

M's meeting is as tedious as it usually is: Robert Benson seems as clueless now as he was two years ago when he was appointed to be the Foreign Secretary, and she gets fed up with repeating information to him that he should have mastered by now. She shifts restlessly in her chair and feels more of James' cum ooze from her pussy into her knickers. She bites her lip to stop herself from moaning at the sensation; she is so aroused that she wants to shove her hand inside her knickers and frig herself until she explodes. If she was in her own office she'd probably do it, or else she'd drag the dildo from her locked desk drawer and fuck herself with that, always assuming James wasn't around to fuck her himself. 

She glances up at the clock on the wall and sees that it's just after five o'clock, which is a small relief. She wonders what put the idea into James' head to send her off to her meeting with her pussy full of his spunk. It's unusual for him to be so assertive, too; normally she's the one in charge when they fuck: he loves it when she is stern and bosses him around, and she enjoys giving him orders that he actually obeys without question (unlike when he's on a mission!).

Benson finally finishes talking and she departs swiftly, heading straight for her car. The driver is soon manoeuvring through the traffic and she forces herself not to check her watch every thirty seconds, knowing that the time won't go any faster if she does.

007-007-007

Bond is waiting for her in her flat: there's champagne in an ice bucket on the coffee table, and he's sprawled on the sofa with his legs spread wide open and his magnificent cock standing tall from his trousers.

He doesn't get up when M comes in, he simply smirks at her as she drops her bag onto the floor, sheds her coat, and kicks off her shoes. He's fisting his cock slowly and she is unable to prevent a whimper from escaping as she hurries across the room to him.

"How was Benson?" he asks as he releases his prick and reaches out to unfasten her skirt.

"As boring as ever," she answers. "I do _not_ want to talk about him."

"What do you want?" 

"You. Your cock in my cunt, fucking me."

His smirk becomes a full-blown grin at her words. "I take it that you liked my idea then?"

She gives a quick nod as he begins to ease her messy knickers down. "I have never been so bloody horny. If it hadn't been for Benson, I'd have wanked myself off."

He chuckles. "I'm grateful for his restraining influence." He taps her leg and she lifts one foot, then the other to step out of her knickers.

"I bet they're ruined," she says when she observes just how much of his cum is slicked over the silk.

"If they are, I'll buy you some more," he says firmly. He stands up, shoves his trousers down off his hips, then seats himself again. "Come here." 

She allows him to grab her hips and tug her closer, then she kneels on the sofa, straddling his thighs.

"It's a good job your flat's soundproofed," he tells her. "Because I reckon I'm going to fuck you until you scream."

"Oh Christ!" M thinks she might come even before his cock's inside her, but she doesn't. She does moan loudly as his thick prick fills her, and he groans too.

"Don't think I'm going to last long this first time," he says.

"No." She knows she won't. "What did you do this afternoon?" she asks.

"Tell you after," he says, and begins to thrust.

007-007-007

Fifteen minutes later, they're in the bathroom, and Bond is aiming the shower head between M's thighs as he cleans her up. 

They shower properly, then dry themselves off, before donning bathrobes and returning to the sitting room for the champagne.

"A toast," he says.

She quirks her mouth as she lifts an eyebrow. "To what?"

"Creampies."

She laughs, then echoes his toast. She sits next to him on the sofa, and he wraps an arm around her. She thinks she might take a nap, but she doubts James will mind: they've got all evening and all night together after all.


End file.
